


for a minute there, i lost myself

by sharoncarters



Series: woman inherits earth [2]
Category: Jurassic World (2015)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-30
Updated: 2015-06-30
Packaged: 2018-04-07 00:30:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4242612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sharoncarters/pseuds/sharoncarters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"What do you really know about him?" Karen asks, and Claire huffs in annoyance. She knows enough. She knows that she loves him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	for a minute there, i lost myself

**Author's Note:**

> here's another one i'm throwing at ya. i just love these two so much they're taking over my life!! i need a sequel of them being extremely cute and not like a jurassic park 3, because that fucked over my entire life, but one where they're together and happy and perfect (even though they already are but you feel me)

Domestic bliss is new for Claire. Not unwelcome, exactly, but new. She doesn't know what to do with the fact that Owen is suddenly leaving his stuff in her new apartment (provided by InGen, of course, because they're still not done atoning for their sins and wading through the PR disaster that was the island; not that she's complaining, though), or the fact that he spends more time there than at his own place.

But then again, his bungalow was destroyed, so she can't blame him. She knows he really loved it, despite the lack of basic amenities it provided (hello, no TV means no dramatic doctor shows). 

She likes wearing his large shirts while she’s making breakfast (poorly, yes, but he never complains, which makes her feel warm inside for reasons other than the tea she’s drinking), and she likes the way his arms wrap around her and under said shirt, rubbing warm circles into her stomach. 

And she really, _really_ likes waking up to Owen's beard scratching her thighs, his mouth warm against her skin. Sometimes waking up to him makes her forget, for a minute, what happened to them. With the hazy light streaming in through the curtains and the way he smiles up at her, there never was an I-Rex, and the park was still perfect and they weren’t having simultaneous nightmares. 

But then she remembers that without it they wouldn't really be together. She doesn't know how to confront it - the fact that they're together because of such a huge disaster. For all intents and purposes, it's wrong. Unnatural, even? She doesn't know.  

It's just weird. They didn't like each other, before. Their date was a disaster. And even though she loves him (she hasn't said it out loud yet, but she does), she can't help but shake the feeling that it's not right. Would they still have found each other if this hadn’t happened to them? She’d like to think they would’ve, anyway, but there’s still a gnawing feeling in her chest that other people might look at them and not see it the same way.  

She calls Karen to talk about it, even though she feels weird dumping all her boyfriend stuff on her sister while she's going through a divorce. Karen says she doesn't mind, but Claire can't help but wonder if she does.

Her sister's really pragmatic with her advice, which makes Claire's stomach churn, just a little. "What do you really know about him?" Karen asks, and Claire huffs in annoyance.

She knows enough. She knows that she loves him.

She knows that he prefers waffles to pancakes because "it's a texture thing" — and he's the first guy to ever agree with her on that. Waffles come with their own special pockets for your syrup and butter, what do pancakes come with? _Nothing_.   

She knows that he still has nightmares and was too afraid to tell her, for a while, until she woke up one night and he was shaking. She talked him through it, rubbing her hands up and down his arms and back. She's had panic attacks for a huge chunk of her life, she knows what it's like.

They fell asleep together afterwards, that night, all tangled up in each other, his chest no longer heaving with panic, and she knew that she loved him.  

She knows he loves her, too. 

She knows that he doesn't care which side of the bed he sleeps on, just as long as he gets to wrap an arm around her. 

She knows how she felt the day he kissed her when she emptied out a drawer for him in the bedroom, how it felt like breathing when she was near him. 

And she knows other things, too. How he misses Blue. The way he holds on to her sometimes like she's the only thing tethering him to the earth. How he laughs when they watch _The Office_ together. 

So what if she doesn't know about every single detail of his childhood or if they're ever going to get jobs. Claire has realized that some things are more important than knowing. She knows that she can’t be in control of other human beings, now. Respect, he’d called it, back when she was still trying to convince herself that she hated him. But it’s more than that, too. It’s respect and love and wanting and laughing together over their coffee and him playing video games with her nephews, and warm kisses to her forehead when he thinks she’s asleep. 

So she ignores Karen's question and asks about the boys instead. Gray took the divorce the hardest. He still calls her up sometimes with _Parent Trap_ -like ideas floating around, and she has to talk him down before he steals a credit card and buys his mom a dozen roses and a fake card apologizing. 

She misses them a lot, but she needs time with Owen to figure out, well, everything. She knows Zach and Gray adore him, she does too, she’s not ashamed. But they just need more _time_. They all do. 

 

* * *

 

She decides to ask Owen about it, which was the first thing she should've done, really. Their failure to communicate was the reason she had to spend months of her life without him before, and knowing that there was a chance that she could've had this sooner really annoyed her.

This, meaning the way his mouth was sucking at her pulse point currently, his hand slowly slipping her yoga pants down her leg. 

"Owen," she gasps softy, tugging his hand away. "Just gimme a sec-" he grins at her wolfishly, and she has to physically restrain herself. She doesn't know how to say it. Should she just blurt it out? _God_ , she knew she should've written out a speech when she had the time, this afternoon while he was out for a run.  

But before she'd done all the chores she needed to he'd come back all sweaty and panting, and she got sidetracked. Could you blame her?

But now she needed to focus. _Focus_ , _Dearing_ , she snaps at herself, curling her legs up underneath her and facing him with a serious look. 

"Why are we together?" she asks him, and his eyebrows scrunch together in the most adorable way and she just wants to kiss him again. _Focus_!

"What are you talking about?" he decides to go with, and she lets out a sigh.

"I mean, do you think we're only together because of what happened to us? Because the park got so screwed up?” she looks down at her hands, knitting them together, not able to look him in the eye.

"What? No. _Claire_ , no." He gently puts a finger under her chin, lifting it up so that she can look at him. "Claire, I was completely gone for you way before any of this happened. And, to be fair, you were the one that put a stop to it." 

She lets out a puff of air but she knows he's right. She's the one that decided she hated him. But, in fairness, he was the one that ruined the date. (She was not letting that go.) 

"So you don't think that this is a mistake?" she asks him, not really sure why. It doesn’t feel like a mistake. It feels right. Natural, like breathing. 

"Do you think it is?" 

"God, Owen, no. I lo—“ she clamps her hands over her mouth. Nope, not like that. Why did her stupid brain have to ruin everything she said around him? _Why, brain, why do you hate me_? He grins at her, grabbing her hips and rolling them both into the mattress. His weight feels heavenly on top of her, like always. He’s smiling like an idiot and she can't help but smile back.

"You were going to say that you love me, weren't you, Ms. Dearing?" 

"Absolutely not. You're delusional." 

"Oh?"

He smirks and starts tickling her, and Claire lets out a surprised squeal. He's relentless, going for spots that cause her to buck up against him. His laughter is infectious though, and soon they're both out of breath. 

Gone is the lighthearted moment, and in its place is Owen looking like he wants to devour her. Her chest is heaving and she feels hot all of a sudden, and she watches his Adam's apple bob as he swallows, thickly.  

_Oh_.

His mouth is on hers, then, hot and wet and pliable against her own, and she lets out a moan that only he could ever get out of her. It's less frantic than usual, his hands running lazily up and down her sides, and for some reason that's more erotic.

"Claire," he groans against her skin, and she's a goner. He always manages to say her name like that, like she’s perfect and he can’t believe he has her, and it makes her stomach flip and her thighs clench together. 

"I love you," she breathes, cupping his face and kissing him, hoping that she can convey exactly how much. "I just didn't want to blurt it out like that, like an idiot, and what if it's too soon or what if you don't feel the same—“

He silences her with another kiss. "I think I've been in love with you since you smeared dinosaur shit all over your thousand dollar outfit," he tells her with a laugh, and she scrunches her nose.

"Couldn't have picked a better moment?" she asks, feeling her blush all the way down her neck, and he shakes his head, nosing along her skin, peppering kisses across her collar bone. 

"It was then that I realized what a complete dork you were," he tells her, and she laughs again. What right did she have to be so happy? She didn't think it could ever happen again, especially not this much, but here it was. Here he was, in love with her for some inexplicable reason, and she wasn’t going to let that go anytime soon. 

**Author's Note:**

> this is the first time i've ever written anything close to "smut" so please tell me if it's awful and horribly written. also this one isn't as long as the other one, so hopefully it doesn't suck


End file.
